I don't own Numb3rs. I miss the show greatly though. This is my pathetic attempt at a fanfic for the show. It's not exactly great but I had an inspiration. I'm still working through it too so reviews are a source of weather or not I should continue.

There won't be any pairing slash or otherwise in this. I know. I'm trying something different.

This is a Stream of Consiousness chapter. If it makes no sense, I'm so sorry.

Amita Ramanujan sat in the office, watching Marshal Penfield and Millie go through the equations and blueprints. She much preferred the sound of Charlie's staccato chalk movements to Marshal's slower and more…legato movements. She also didn't feel he was nearly as brilliant as Charlie was. Her heart clenched when she remembered she'd left him at the altar. She hated him a bit for being able to simply fall back into their old friendship so easily but now, she wanted that relationship more than anything.

She wondered if this was how he felt when she'd been taken in front of him. He'd proposed when he'd gotten her back. She'd said yes, his eyes lighting up happily. It didn't go through though, her own cold feet making her dance away from the altar. Looking back it had been the stupidest thing she could have done – she could have married his brilliance, they could have had more together than they ever had been. She sighed softly. She wanted Charlie back and she wanted him back badly.

Though, she doubted he'd be the same loveable Charlie she'd known.

It had been three days since Don and Ian had gotten them all onto the business of how Frank Cornel got free from prison and she couldn't really say they'd gotten very far in much of it. Alan could only give them so much from blueprints and none of them were really willing to go to an actual jail house just to run calculations – not without Charlie egging them into doing it, a large impish smile on his face.

She waited patiently – albeit barely – for Marshal and Millie to stop and stare at the boards for a moment before sharing a look, cursing, and doing something all over again. She'd watched them do it so many times she was about to be able to set her watch to them. She picked up the soft knocks at the door and allowed her head to turn to find Larry at the door. She smiled a little and he smiled back as he entered.

"Have we made any achievements as of yet?" he called quickly to Marshal and Millie. Both shook their heads. He hung his head. "I am sad to say that I myself have had no success. I do hope this will not continue on in the following days. Don and Ian did seem a tad bit on the urgent side of this."

"They did feel a little rushed didn't they?" Marshal asked casually. "I apologize though. Charles' brother still scares me a bit…It must be thanks to Charles dragging me to a warehouse with stolen technology and men with guns." He smiled wryly at the memory. "Oh good times."

"At least he's not after you any more for you going after his work," Millie grumbled in her own sarcastic way as she bustled over to them through the clutter and slight insanity that was Charlie's office. "There's a symmetry to this chaos," she muttered as she shook her head. "Of course Dr. Eppes, whatever you say Dr. Eppes."

Amita couldn't stop herself from smiling at the grousing Millie was muttering as she tripped past piles of books and papers. Even the slightly eccentric head of them all was a little perturbed by how much crap there was in the small space. Marshal had been too but then again, Larry's office was far worse in some respects.

"Is anyone else amenable to getting food?" Larry asked gently. Millie and Marshal looked at him with admiration – like he was an angel – and nodded ecstatically. He nodded and suggested the campus lunch areas. Marshal looked like he was about to drool and nodded dreamily. Amita wouldn't be surprised if he started muttering 'food' like a zombie. Millie and Larry looked about the same, Larry looking the best out of the three.

"Will you please join us Amita?" Marshal asked kindly. She shook her head sadly.

"I have papers to grade and lectures to edit," she replied. Millie and Larry gave her a look but she ignored the fact they knew that she wasn't even supposed to be there today – she had no classes scheduled and Millie had given her mandatory vacation. However, her life still revolved around the CalSci campus so she had just come like she did every day before only now, she had to hide out in an office. Not that Amita minded that prospect.

Her co-workers nodded in understanding and filed out slowly. She could feel Millie's dissatisfaction at her even being present at the building but then again, it was to be expected. She let her eyes fall back to the board and the blueprints. Her fingers itched to look at them and do her own set of figures. She wanted to help but she couldn't make herself do it.

Instead, she slipped out of the office and moved for her own space. She actually did have a few papers to grade and a lecture to work on – it always helped for her to have a genuine excuse – so she guessed she could get that taken care of. In the past few months, she'd begun to yearn for music playing in the background so she had moved a small CD/radio into her office along with a few CDs of her own. She popped one into the player and waited as the sound of classical music began to surround her.

She lost track of time, not noticing when she started working on her papers and other projects, when a soft knock reached her ears. Her head snapped up to find it was nearly six in the afternoon and Sheila Rodriguez standing at her door, eyes confused. Amita gaped at her and stumbled out of her chair and to the girl's side.

"Uh…Can I help you?" she asked a little flustered.

"I have a project and I need to use a good computer," Sheila stated calmly, a slight twinge of unease in the depths of her voice. "I'm lost beyond belief but my mother understands that I'll be late getting home anyway," she started waving a hand somewhat dismissively. "I'd like to get home tonight though…"

"No worries," Amita chuckled, her eyes beginning to light up a little bit. "I'll show you the way to the computer lab."

"Thanks," Sheila gushed.

The walk was quiet, Amita's eyes misting over again as they passed specific areas that held the most memories of Charlie for her – the courtyard, the globe that had been burned down twice, and even the lunch area. Sheila seemed to be able to pick up the fact that Amita was distancing herself but since she was unsure why, she was doing the safest thing; staying quiet. Of course, the computer lab wasn't completely empty when they managed to get there but there were open spaces – some all by themselves in the farther corners.

"Thank you," Sheila stated gratefully before bee lining it to an empty computer that was – Amita noticed – away from all the other students. Of course Amita was a bit surprised. CalSci was a tightly knit community and even though Sheila was somewhat new to it, there should have been someone there that would act like a big brother or big sister figure to help her out a little.

"Have you made any friends with you fellow students yet?" Amita asked, leaning against the table on Sheila's right. The young woman glanced at her warily – Amita chalked it up to her living situation – but returned her attention to the screen before her.

"No time," she mumbled as she typed. "I have a demanding commute to get here from my house and to my house from here. I don't want people from my neighborhood giving me crap when they see where I'm learning so I take the bus. I do homework and chores and school. That's my life…Why do you ask Professor?"

"Well usually there are older students who help out the new ones out with finding their way and what not," Amita shrugged. Sheila gave her skeptical look. "Wouldn't it make it a lot easier if you had a friend who could help you out with navigating this place at the least?"

"No thanks," Sheila muttered, her fingers flying over the keys. "In my neighborhood, those are the first people who get you into trouble."

"No offense," Amita sighed, her patience wearing thin. "This isn't your neighborhood."

"No offense, but even I use stereotypes," was the curt reply. Amita sighed. She should have expected that reaction but it still bit at her. She knew people used stereotypes because they tended to have a bit of truth to them and that was usually true when someone lived around so many of them as she did.

"CalSci isn't like your neighborhood Sheila," Amita stated. "The only stereotypes that matter here have to do with your brains and what you use them for." She looked at the girl pleadingly. "Please let me get you a mentor."

"I like finding my own way Professor. It's more fun and more satisfying." Her fingers flew over the keys as she spoke, each punch getting more and more deliberate as she went. It was like she was trying to restrain herself and was taking her feelings out on the keys rather than Amita.

"Alright," Amita sighed. She left the girl to her work. She could tell there was something Sheila wanted to talk about with someone but if the girl wasn't going to talk to her then she'd have to let Sheila figure things out for herself.

"Why is Sheila going to be late tonight?" Charlie asked carefully, like he was tiptoeing around a sensitive subject.

The past few days had been hell for him. His numbers were silent again and all he could do was look up names and hope he could get the correct faces matched. It didn't help that he was repeatedly waking up in a cold sweat every night from the same two dreams. He wasn't sure which one scared him more though. One of the dreams consisted of him in that garage again, Don yelling at him about 'Mom' and yelling how he wasn't doing what he should have been doing as a son. The other…Maria and Sheila had woken up to him screaming at least twice those few days. He woke up and then started muttering that he was sure he'd been injured.

"She has to work on a project and the research needs to be done on the computer," Maria stated quickly. "She called in time to tell me I'd only be cooking for two."

She slapped a plate before him and he stared warily at the loaded plate. He knew an extra helping when he saw it and it was on his plate. He glanced at Maria's plate and automatically recognized the extra half of potatoes, veggies, and meat on her plate that only served to remind him of his plate.

He kept his mouth shut though. He'd heard the story of the cold sparrow that was warmed up by cow crap, started singing, and was eaten by a cat. There were three morals to that story. First, someone who gets you into shit isn't exactly your enemy. Second, someone who gets you out of shit isn't exactly your friend. Three, sometimes it's better to just keep your mouth shut. He wasn't sure he wanted to think about the first two considering how much shit he was most likely in period but he knew when to shut the fuck up.

"It tastes great as usual Maria," he stated easily after a few bites. She smiled at him as she played with the potatoes. Charlie let his eyes slide over to the kitchen – not much of a feat – to find another serving worth of food. He closed his mouth over the meat he was eating and forced his eyes back to his plate.

"Thank you Charlie…Have you been catching up on your sleep any?"

He didn't answer. Maria wasn't expecting one though since she'd stuck around the house after the first screaming awake moment he had – he was sure she had something planned though since she kept glaring at the clock – to make sure he caught up on the sleep he was losing. Given, she wasn't feeling like he was catching up on much of anything. His research had gotten a few more hints on Charles Eppes and Reynolds – a few things about Don Eppes – but he wasn't sure what it all meant for him.

He was also sure that his memories were up to maybe 1997. Something about cancer kept bugging him. Something about a certain park bugged him too but he wasn't sure why. He sighed thinking back to what he'd read about himself – or at least what he'd read about Charlie Eppes. He still wasn't sure that he really was this person who helped the FBI and the NSA and god only knew who else. As far as he was concerned, Maria's place was all he'd ever had since… whatever it was that caused his memory to be completely blank had happened. None of it made any sense to him.

He really wanted to go to CalSci though. He was sure he'd get answers there. Maybe he'd go when Maria and Sheila were asleep? Who the hell would go to a school in the middle of the night anyway right? He chewed his lip as he began to think that maybe it was one of those schools that simply had over night courses that could be taken if someone had a part-time job or something like that.

"I see," she muttered. "Try to sleep in tomorrow alright?"

"I'll do what I can Maria," he lied. He wasn't going to try anything like that. He was going to do more research and see if he could get out of the house without injuring himself or being seen or heard. He had half a mind to just walk out in front of Maria but that would bring too many questions to mind.

Instead, he bolted down his food and returned to his room.

"Good night Charlie!" Maria called up.

"Good night Charlie!" Margret Eppes called. Charlie twitched.

"Good night," he mumbled before shutting the door.

Sheila slipped into her house late that night, her books tumbling from her arms as she juggled them, the door, her keys, and her bag. She sighed as soon as the last lock fell into place. Glancing about, she found her own dinner sitting next to the microwave with plastic wrap over it. She wasn't sure weather or not to be happy. The rest of the house was dark. She bolted down her food and shuffled off to bed. Passing Charlie's room she glanced in to find he was asleep.

"Night Charlie," she whispered.

Really seriously guys, the note at the very bottom (that will ask you to review) is not a joke. I like reading them! Just adding me to story alert doesn't tell me jack.

Please review. Thanks.